During a discussion with a friend of mine, the epic kiting of Lord Kazzak was brought up. Of course, that was before Burning Crusade came out and our dear demon received a large rank up. Yet, I still found myself wondering what it would be like to kite Kazzak to Stormwind and for what reason someone would do this.
This is set in a pre-Burning Crusade time yet I've kept Kazzak's current size in place for comedic reasons.
Note: Forgive me. This is a repost; I took it down for a time. Please enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, Lord Kazzak, Blizzard or anything affiliated with any of them.
--
A loud rumbling began in Darkshire. The Night Watch scrambled to formation, used to these rumblings from their constant episodes with Stitches, the affectionately named abomination. Why these adventurers continued to help the madman near the cemetery, no one knew.
"Stand strong my comrades!" their captain shouted.
The men and women of the Watch stood strong, ready now to die for the citizens who would probably then be massacred by worgan, by the scourge or by the newly formed Stitches. Then, the rumbling ceased...
A sense of unease spread through the Watch; a horrible sense of foreboding as the eerie silence spread. The calm before the storm.
Suddenly, a small figure appeared in the distance, his shocking pink hair and beard visible even from the distance.
"LEROY JENKINS!" the gnome shouted.
"W-what did he say" one man asked. The rest of the group remained speechless.
The source of the gnome's terror-stricken glee became clear as an orange-skinned giant of magnificent proportions came crashing through the trees, rumbling towards the town. His long wings flared out behind him, his horns larger than any man and his blaing eyes intent upon the small creature as his hooves shook the earth.
"What is that?!" someone shouted.
"CHUCK NORRIS!" shouted the gnome.
"MIDGET!" shouted the monstrosity.
"Who is Chuck Norris?" asked one defender.
Elsewhere, Chuck Norris smiled and nodded; he approved.
"Lord Kazzak shall see your corpse lain out before his feet before the night is out small one!" the giant, apparently named Kazzak, shouted.
As he took his first step into Darkshire, the Night Watch charged forward. Finally taking notice of the other beings, the demon stared down at the futile attempts of the humans. Then, one by one, he punted the poor creatures. Humans flew over trees, into clearings, onto spiders, and into encampments of delighted worgen.
"Your energy strengthens me pathetic humans!" he shouted after the last of the town's defenders had flown over the treetops and into the twilight grove where screams were heard followed by the emotional, draconic speeches that were often heard in the surrounding area.
"Now, back to business..." he looked around, spotting the gnome who had originally provoked his wrath dancing a good distance away. "Why you little bugger!"
And thus the chase began again...
--
A rumbling began in Westfall. The People's Militia helped those in their care to the inn, roof still yet unfinished after the five or so years they'd been working on it. The carpenters were baffled as to why hammering diligently on the same spot, night and day for what seemed like years, had done nothing.
Commander of little importance shouted out orders to his frantically gathering brigade of haphazard soldiers. The gryphon master nearby smirked merrily to himself. Every hair on his stout human body exuded smugness for he knew that should anything attack him, three mighty gryphons would appear to defend him in all his badly dressed glory. The creatures seemed to appear from a magical vortex connected to some faraway land. A land spoken of only in whispers...Narnia. Indeed, the gryphons seated around him were merely mechanical decorative fixtures.
The militia gathered together, all seven of them, and formed a rather squishy line of flesh and iron; easily broken by bowling ball or the stray fel reaver.
All grew quiet. Too quiet. No liver-less boars squealed as their flesh was ravaged by an adventurer's blades. No scale-less murlocs, their bodies filled to the brim with robes and two-handed axes, screamed. It was an uneasy silence.
A new recruit jumped as a small figure broke the horizon...
"Sir! I see something!"
"Well, what is it boy?!"
...followed by a not so small figure.
"Death!"
The commander stared at him for a moment, quite startled by this odd outburst.
"Someone get him to the inn! He's had too much sun," he cried.
"That won't do 'em a bit 'o good sir. The inn's got more sun than this 'ya know."
"Well get him to the odd stone tower thing at which we stand all day then!" he called back.
"Wait! I see it too sir!" someone called out.
"You see death soldier?" the commander asked skeptically.
"No sir! But I do see...something."
And, indeed, something it was. The commander and his troops shielded their eyes, all noticing a rather large being stampeding towards their tiny, easily stepped upon town.
"M-my...my god!" the commander gasped. "It is death! Death has come to us in the form of-"
"Chicken!" shouted the small figure who lead "death."
"-gnome?!"
"What is he shouting about?" one of the soldiers asked.
"Something about poultry it seems!" one of the others exclaimed.
"At least I have chicken!" the gnome shouted again.
"Perhaps chicken is the key to defeating our adversary! Soldiers! Grab every bird you can find and quickly! Our very survival depends on it!"
The militia rushed to action; they grabbed chickens, parrots, exotic avian pets from angry adventurers and travelers. Even the occasional, unlucky gut-ripper who wandered a tad too close to camp fell prey to the battle effort. Once everyone had a decent arsenal of feathered weaponry, they assembled once again as their foe lumbered towards the town.
"Alright men! This is what you've been trained for!"
"We've been trained to battle huge, monstrous beings with chickens sir?!" a new recruit exclaimed, horrified that he had missed that day of his training.
"No soldier! You've been trained to lay down your life for those of the innocent people you protect!"
"B-but sir, I don't want to die. And I've never fought using a chicken before!"
"Man up boy! This'll be the most epic battle of your small, insignificant existance!" the commander said proudly, puffing out his chest.
"You're not doing much for my morale sir..."
The men and women of the militia took their places, watching as their impending doom grew ever closer.
"Ready men!" the commander shouted, the small gnome rushing past them with hysterical laughter. "Alright everyone!" Kazzak set his first hoof into the town of Westfall... "Charge!"
The militia sprang upon Lord Kazzak like maddened, howling demons. They clung to his hooves as they desperately bashed their loudly protesting weapons against it.
"Sir! 'Tis no good sir!" a man called out as he smashed his long incapacitated chicken's head into the steel-hard hoof. "They do not hurt him! And our weapons cannot take the pressure!"
It was then that Lord Kazzak finally took notice of the small humans who battered away at his hooves, expensively polished just the other day, with what looked like small beings of flight.
"Puny, insignificant worms!" he shouted, his voice carrying angrily over the land. And, for the second time in mere hours, the land of Azeroth saw it's human inhabitants sailing into the air as they were kicked, hurled and punted from the large demon's hooves.
Nearby members of the renegade Defias gang cheered and scrambled to find parchment on which they could hold up scores of Kazzak's punting.
Their very own commander sailed unceremoniously into the air, crash-landing through the roof of the inn; a nearby carpenter looked at the newly formed hole in the roof and burst into tears.
Kazzak gazed in an amused fashion as some of the humans realized that their panicking poultry made for wonderful parachutes and gliders. One by one, he pulled back a finger and flicked them from the sky and towards the murloc infested coast, chuckling to himself as the final soldier sailed over the horizon with a sharp, high pitched squeal.
"Noob!"
The demon glanced down sharply, remembering again the reason for his long journey. The gnome was there; merely a handful of yards away was the source of his annoyance. Not only was the gnome shouting out insults that the large demon could not understand, but he was dancing oddly while doing so!
With a loud snarl, Kazzak began the chase anew, leaving many a weeping carpenter in his wake...
--
A rumbling began in Elwynn Forest. The inhabitants of Goldshire halted their daily activities. The smith looked up from his work, unaware of his apprentice's hammer. New adventurers halted their battles, duel flags littering the area and making it hard for people to walk down the road.
A young looking priest rushed into the inn and up to a guard who cursed as his mead sloshed out of it's mug as the ground shook again.
"what s tha?!" the priest asked. The guard merely stared at him for a moment.
"Pardon?"
"y grond shakeng?!" the priest tried again, one of his eyes rolling off center.
"I…I cannot understand you my good priest. Forgive me but could you try again?" he replied, somewhat uneasy as he watched the man's eye.
"r u an rper or sumthing? lawl"
"I beg your parden?!" The guard was struck dumb for a moment. What on earth was this priest babbling about? Was it a member of the Horde using one of the artifacts known as an Orb of Deception? Was it a demon preparing to attack him? Or was it…
"kan I have sum gold plz?"
Yes! It was! It was a vile creature known as a n00b. Unsheathing his sword he struck the abomination down, it's blood coating his blade. The barkeep near by shook his head and sighed as the blood began to pool around the body. Cleaning his blade, the guard thanked the light for his swift judgment; the town of Goldshire was safe again for the moment.
Another guard rushed into the inn and pointed frantically towards the doorway.
"Come quickly! Something is heading straight for town!"
"Is it another rampaging band of bored members of the Horde again?" the guard sighed; he was beginning to tire of respawning so much. Once he had gotten used to one body it was dead. Had they no idea how hard it was to re-break in a body?!
"No! It's something bigger! And it's coming straight this way!"
He followed the man swiftly out of the inn only to pale in terror as he caught sight of the monstrous demon rushing towards their small town.
"By the Light! We cannot win against such a foe!" he murmured to himself. "Everyone! Take your positions!"
The townspeople sighed as they stood in place, waiting for their deaths to come swiftly and praying that their respawns would be equally swift.
It was only when he looked again that the guard noticed a small figure leading the terror to his town. He could just barely make out what looked like a…gnome? As they moved closer, the guard noticed something that caused him a stab of pity; the gnome was laughing. The poor thing had been so terrified that he had gone insane. Shaking his head, he armed himself. The gnome's sanity would not have gone in vain! He would fight this creature!
"Menace! You shall feel the pain of a thousand deaths for what you have done to that poor creature!" he shouted at the advancing demon.
"Fear not my good man, we are with you!"
With a slight shock, he realized that he was not alone. Beside him stood a mighty Draenei paladin, a heroic Night Elf hunter and a courageous dwarf warrior. Yes. Together they would be able to defend their lands against this mighty foe.
"Ready yourselves! Kings honor!" he cried.
"Remember the lessons of the past!" shouted the Draenei.
"Elune light your path!" the Night Elf shouted, readying her bow.
"Off with 'ye!" the Dwarf bellowed.
It was then that a small group of people, ranging from Orc to Tauren to Blood Elf, leapt from the shrubbery beside the road.
"For the Horde!" they roared, arming themselves for what they believed to be a short and easy fight. One with no honor might I add. Yet it was not to be as they were easily crushed beneath the foot of the large, winged horror.
The gnome rushed through Goldshire with the speed of a god, shouting something that sounded strangely like, "Punt 'em good!" The demon entered the town, his eyes seeing nothing but the damnable gnome in front of him. At least, that was before humans once again charged his hooves.
Lord Kazzak looked down once again as another group of would-be heroes battered themselves silly against his hooves. Before this journey, his hooves had been perfectly manicured. And now, as he looked down he saw the damage that the blades and hammers were doing; they had lost their luster, their light sheen. His vision went red; these humans would pay for their transgressions!
Rearing back his leg, somewhat stubby when his size was factored in, he let loose a mighty kick, sending the guard and the rest of his band sailing into the wilds of the forest. Finding the gnome again, dancing as usual, he began the chase again. The gnome had the audacity to giggle as he began an uphill climb.
As he chased, he wondered slightly how the gnome was so swift. For the duration of the excursion he had been unable to catch the annoying little insect. He also pondered how much he would have to pay the Gan'arg to re-polish his hooves as another cow fell prey to them.
He was barely away of crashing through a stone archway. Or of his wings decapitating statues. Or of a man on horseback charging into his hoof only to be mistakenly kicked into a wall, where bounced loudly off of the wall and into the river below. He never even noticed the large head that hung above the left entrance into the city. Lord Kazzak had reached the human capital of Stormwind.
Men and women alike screamed in terror are the large demon was led through the town, shouting obscenities at the gnome as they went. Buildings were smashed, mounts were flattened, and humans scrambled out of the way in panic. No one wished to be under one of those hooves when they were brought down.
The knights of Stormwind did their best to rally gathering as many of their numbers together as possible; heroes were plucked from the auction house and the bank and a swift runner was sent to the gryphon master, the only link to their Narnian reinforcements. The dwarves of the city were, sadly, drunk as they were, unable to participate.
Yet Lord Kazzak would not be detoured! Not this time! He had eyes only for the gnome who ran before him. All of the humans would soon be crushed beneath his feet anyway; no need to rush things.
In Stormwind Keep nearby, a knight rushed to warn Highlord Bolvar Fordragon.
"Sir!" the knight called, his tone panicked and his eyes wide. Lady Prestor glared at him as he entered. We now take a moment to wonder how Lady Katrana Prestor currently stood next to the child-king Auduin while her shining, draconic head hung from the archway into the city.
"What has you in such a fright man?!" Fordragon demanded as he took in the appearance of the knight.
"A monstrosity has entered our city! He appears to be led by a gnome! If we do not do something soon, Stormwind will be destroyed!"
"And if Stormwind is destroyed I can only imagine what that insane man, VanCleef, will say," Fordragon muttered to himself. "Knight! Rush to the Mage Quarters. Tell them that we have no choice. We will have to unleash Stormwind's secret weapon."
The knight's eyes widened and the child-king cowered in fear.
"B-but sir! Is that really necessary?!" the knight asked, his voice a mere shocked whisper.
"We have no choice. It is the only way," the Highlord replied.
Nodding, the knight turned and rushed from the keep without a backward glance. Highlord Fordragon watched him retreat, his face resigned.
"Is it really the only way Bolvar?" Lady Ony- I mean, Lady Prestor asked.
"Yes…" he murmured.
--
Kazzak continued to wreak havoc upon the city, the gnome leading him from a cathedral to what looked like a park. They rushed back through another green area; the air around them hummed with magic. Returning to the line of canals that separated the cities districts, he finally tore his eyes away from the gnome as something more pressing caught his attention.
A large line of magic users stood on the opposite end of the canal, smiling at him in a way that made even his blood run cold. Focusing their efforts, they began to channel a great deal of arcane energy into the canal itself. Captivated, he watched the mage's efforts as a grand sense of dread washed through him. Something was very wrong about that canal. Suddenly, he saw the horrible consequence of his foe's efforts; a large crocolisk crawled from the water and began to advance upon him, growing larger with every step. This was Stormwind's greatest defense.
The great beast tore through his skin like a set of steak knives through warm margarine. He cried out in pain as the crocolisk shredded his flesh with wild abandon, the beast still growing with every passing second as the mages continued their incantations.
Spreading his wings, he flew from Stormwind in a panic, hoping that no other demon would ever hear of this incident. Never again would he darken Stormwind's doorway for fear of the large beast that he knew would await him.
Fordragon watched the demon's retreat with solemn eyes. The city was safe from the demon's onslaught. Of this he was sure. Now what ever would they do with the enlarged crocolisk?
--
The gnome sat in the deepest cell of the Stormwind stockades, chuckling darkly to himself and rubbing his hands together in a maniacal fashion. Once the cowardly demon had made his retreat, his punishment had been swiftly put into play; enough people had come forward to testify against him.
Yet the joke was on them. For he had finally gotten his revenge. He had finally gotten revenge for the entire gnomish race. After all, for a time, however small, the taller races had had their own experience with being punted…